


No Substitutions

by Aurora_Kira



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: BTW It’s Not Slash (Unless You Want it to Be), Disembodied Organs, Gen, It’s Better When You Trade, It’s Not Really Crack but Girl It Ain’t Normal, John Gave His Heart Away Long Ago, John Receives an Unexpected Gift
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-16
Updated: 2012-04-16
Packaged: 2017-11-03 19:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/384785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aurora_Kira/pseuds/Aurora_Kira
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There’s a heart lying on the kitchen table. It's still beating. Plus, It looks a little bit familiar.</p>
            </blockquote>





	No Substitutions

There’s a heart lying on the kitchen table. 

It’s different from the usual, though. ( _God, now he thinks it’s usual to have body parts lying around the flat._ ) For one thing, it’s still beating. For another, it looks a little bit familiar.

John isn’t really personally acquainted with any hearts that he knows of. He did his stint in the cardiothoracic rotation but always enjoyed the straight-up trauma surgeries more. Leave the specialists to their work. Why he should feel like he knows this heart in particular isn’t clear.

He moves closer, gazing down at it. The beating is very rapid; out of habit, he takes the rate. He knows it’s the most accurate apical pulse he’ll ever measure.

Oddest of all ( _and_ this _is the oddest part, there’s a bloody_ heart _on the table and_ this _is the oddest part?_ ), the heart feels lonely to him, like it wants something. He thinks he’s going crazy. Well, crazier. Craziest. He snorts.

He’s a doctor, he knows hearts don’t belong laying around on tables like Thursday’s rubbish waiting to be carted away. He reaches down and gently pokes it with his index finger. It wants picking up, holding. He knows the best place to keep a heart, and it’s not a tea tray.

He lifts it with one hand, cradling it gently, and opens his chest with the other. There’s a nice, fist-sized, heart-shaped hole on the left side, tailor-made, just waiting for something warm and pulsing to go inside. He places the heart within the ( _gaping, vast, cavernous_ ) opening and holds it there for a second, hand splayed across his open chest like he’s about to make the most important declaration of his life. Then he pats once, twice, decisively. Closes his chest. Sighs.

He feels _so much better_. He’d no idea how much he’d been wanting one of his own. He doesn’t take the time to wonder where his old one went ( _hadn’t been missing it at all, really. How long had it been gone? He thinks since the man at the door returned his cane_ ), just revels in the steady beat under his ribs. He wants to think something silly, like it feels like a caged bird fluttering inside his chest, but it’s much too strong for that. More like a caged elephant, caged cheetah, caged _velociraptor_ , something that wants to run, run, run forever down London streets, chasing happiness and a dark coat.

He spent far too long without a heart when he came back from Afghanistan, but less than 48 hours after it was returned to him he went and gave it away again, without question or hesitation. It’s nice to know he has one in return now. He was getting a bit cold without one. He likes this new one better than his, anyway. It has a feeling of potentiality about it, a feeling of intent. He thinks _OhGodYes_ is branded on this heart in the same way it was on his old one, but it comes with a hard diamond shine to the words that his own couldn’t mimic. There’s no substitute for the real thing.

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so maybe it is crack. Whatever.
> 
> I’m just transferring some things over from Fanfiction.net, so my apologies if you’ve read this before and had to read it again.


End file.
